


Paint

by killallyourfriends (orphan_account)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Book: Mockingjay, Drabble, F/M, No Spoilers, One Shot, Post-Mockingjay, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/killallyourfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch helps Katniss paint the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Mockingjay, slightly AU. No spoilers.

The door swings open. She’s wearing sweats, and he matches. He raises an eyebrow.

“Really? Sweatpants?”

Pursed lips, and a dubious look. “What did you expect?”

They both fill in the blanks as he slides past. He smells like fresh earth and ivory soap. Not like mountain sweat, or tequila, for that matter. She smiles.

He stretches. They get to work.

\---

Paint buckets stack up high like the bricks of old. Laughter echoes against the tin metal mountain that they’ve constructed out of artistic vision and good intentions. From scalp to tail they are both flecked in black, dull paint.

He only stops laughing at her warrior grin and maiden paint when he finishes his last drink. By then, the sun sinks heavy into the clouds.

“Why did you choose to paint the walls black?”

Baited breath lingers. She doesn’t realize that he has already asked the burning question. She is blank and quiet for two minutes, but he is patient.

“I don’t know,” she finally lies. He watched her eyes meet the thick red horizon. He watched her lips fight that deep, dark grin.

He doesn’t push her. It was only a burst of curiosity, slipped from tighter lips.

“I don’t know,” she says again, as if to reaffirm it to herself. She shrugs. “It’s a pretty color.”

“I agree.” He doesn’t, and he doesn’t care. He wraps an arm around her waist, kisses her on the forehead, and sets her drink up high upon the mantel.


End file.
